


Let's Get it On

by rumplestiltskinsbulge



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, Rumbelle Showdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written as part of Round 3 of the 2015 rumbelleshowdown under the name Gaston.</p>
<p>Prompts: Coffee, Motown, Belle finds something shocking</p>
<p>----</p>
<p>In three words: Porn Industry AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Get it On

Anthony Gold was in trouble. Deep trouble. He’d been in the business long enough to know that there are certain things you don’t do. For instance: one of your employees. He’d made that mistake once or twice in his younger days, but now he was older and wiser.

He was far too old to get hard as a rock every time he saw her. The amount of cold showers he’d had to take was truly disgraceful for a man of his age. But, God, she was beautiful. Not just sexy in the same, fake way that most of the women he worked with were, but truly and honestly beautiful. It was a shame that that beauty was being wasted in such a profession.

Gold had never been one for watching porn. He supposed that when you dedicated a large portion of your life to creating it, watching it lost its appeal. It was cheesy and nothing at all like the reality of sex– but that was porn. Porn didn’t sell sex, it sold the fantasy. And the fantasy was exactly what had drawn Gold in. It’s what had made him sit down in his producer’s chair on set and play back the takes they’d done that day, unzipping his pants to stroke his cock as he watched her.

Belle French was a beauty beyond compare, and the sounds of her moans drove him positively mad with desire. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were well shaped and perky and still bounced as George Gaston fucked her up against the counter of the fake coffee shop they’d erected. Marvin Gaye played in the back track, proving that Gold did have a sense of humor. But none of it even registered with him– what did the set and music matter when the lovely blue eyed Aussie was on the screen, letting out little Oh’s and Ah’s as her partner buried his face in between her legs.

“Oh fuck–” he groaned as he gripped his cock harder and gave it a few quick yanks. This was crossing a line that he wasn’t certain he could ever recover from. Weeks of denying himself this was being thrown away for a few fleeting moments of despicable pleasure. But, oh God, did it feel so good.

“Hello–? Oh my God!” With a string of curses, Gold hurriedly stuffed himself back into his trousers. He’d been alone, he’d made certain! Everyone had gone home for the night.

“What the hell are you–” he turned angrily to see none other than the object of his desires (and near orgasm) standing in the doorway with her eyes covered and a bright blush on her cheeks. Fuck. His tone became gentler and more shocked than angry. “Doing here?”

“I- I left something in the dressing room,” she said meekly, turning her back to him. “It was locked and I thought I heard– voices.”

Hurriedly he shut off the playback, feeling like the biggest fool in the world. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and stood, too aware of the fact that his cock was still hard and causing a bit of a problem in his trousers. He tried to position his hands and cane in a way that she might not notice. “You can– erm– turn around.” She did so slowly, blushing and barely able to look him in the eye.

There was a long moment of silence before they both tried to break it at once. “Please, you go first,” he said, shifting his weight nervously.

“I just– it can wait…” she told him. He nodded silently, lips pressed together. She made to leave, and he knew that if she did without any word from him it would just be that much more awkward the next day.

“Ah– Miss French.” She stopped and turned back to face him. “About what you saw–”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she assured him quickly. He smiled ruefully at that.

“I appreciate that, but I’m far more worried about what you think than what you’ll say,” he admitted. “This”– he gestured to the playback–"is not something that I make a habit of doing.”

“You don’t have to explain, Mr. Gold.”

“But I do.” He stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them. “It makes things between the two of us very awkward and you have to feel comfortable around me to do your job well.” She nodded, agreeing. “I won’t deny that you have a– particular beauty that is unusual for our line of work. I’ve found it rather enticing at times.” Or all of the time, really.

“But I want to assure you that this will never happen again. And I would never ask you to do something you’re uncomfortable with– with me. Or at all.” He was making a damn fool of himself, if it was possible for him to be more of a fool, that is. “You have my word.” He knew what reputations men in his profession had. He wanted her to know he wasn’t like that. She didn’t have to succumb to his very vivid desires to keep her job.

“What if…?” she replied after a few moments of silent deliberation that had him fearing she would quit. “What if I want to do those things with you?” She sounded almost innocent. And he didn’t doubt that in many ways, despite working in porn, she was. It was part of her appeal.

Anthony cleared his throat and shifted his weight again as his cock twitched. “If you– if you wanted too– I suppose that might change things.” Was she being serious? He searched her eyes for signs of disgust. She got to spend her days with a much younger and much more attractive young buck pleasuring her. Why would she want an old man with a limp inside of her?

She bit her bottom lip, something he’d only ever seen her do off camera, and his cock strained against his trousers painfully. “You’ve admitted to wanting me– so I suppose it’s my turn. When I started working in porn, a friend of mine told me that the key to moaning realistically is to find something to moan about. A fantasy or someone to fantasize about. You’re my something to moan about.” She was blushing and he just knew the soft pink color would reach her breasts.

“Why?” It was the only thing he could think to say, seeing as how all of the blood in his body was currently in a completely different head. She giggled and he had to suppress a moan of need.

“I find you sexy, of course.” He blinked at her, uncomprehending. She let her purse fall gently to the ground and moved in closer, bringing a hand up to his cheek. “Your chocolate brown eyes, your well fitted suits, and that accent–” She was speaking softly now, her eyes cloudy with a desire that had been building since she’d seen him stroking his cock watching her, and her voice was husky with arousal. She bit her bottom lip again and he leaned in closer, hormones taking over his higher reasoning.

“I didn’t stand a chance,” she whispered against his lips, which had come so near hers they might as well have been kissing. When they did finally kiss, it was like Heaven had surrounded him.

Heaven smelled of vanilla and roses and tasted faintly of coffee– fitting for the set they were on. His tongue slid against hers and they both moaned into the kiss in unison. “We shouldn’t do this,” he whispered back when they broke the kiss, even as his free arm hooked around her waist and pulled her tight against him.

“We’re both consenting adults,” she said as she pushed him back towards the set where a couch sat against one fake coffee shop wall. “And I can feel how much you want it.” She pressed her hips against his, grinding against the large, hard bulge in his pants. He shuddered in wanton desire and moaned. “Let me show you how much I want it.”

He fell back against the couch, mouth agape in wonder as the woman of his dreams straddled him. “Miss French– a-are you sure–?”

“Shh–” She kissed him to shut him up, a hungry and deep kiss. That was all it took for Gold to let go. They didn’t bother with most of their clothes, only the ones that mattered. She helped him out of his trousers and he helped her shimmy out of her panties, leaving on the short blue skirt. They kissed, hot and heavy, as she lowered herself over him. They moaned as one as she began to rock her hips against his. She felt perfect, and he lifted his hips to meet hers thrust for thrust.

Her moans and whimpers were softer and more needy than during shooting, and Gold could hear the definite difference between her faked pleasure with Gaston and the very real pleasure he was giving her. It gave him a satisfying feeling to know that he was doing that to her. “Oh God, Belle–” He moaned against her lips. “You feel so good.”

“Anthony– yes, oh yes…” Her head fell back as she rode him, grinding her hips down against his and pulling him in deeper. His hand snuck down to rub her clit, bringing out louder moans. “Yes, yes, yes!”

She was close, and he was glad because it was getting harder and harder for him to hold himself together. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged affectionately. Almost on command, Belle’s body tensed and shook with the force of her orgasm. Her moans came out loud and choked as her thrusts became erratic. Her inner walls squeezed and fluttered around him and drew a guttural groan from him as he came as well.

As they both collapsed against the couch, tangled in each other’s embrace, Gold knew: the reality was so much better than the fantasy.

**Author's Note:**

> Find this fic as well as more drabbles, prompts, and answered questions on my tumblr: rumplestiltskinsbulge.tumblr.com


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